To You, From Me
by OhThoseGoldenEyes
Summary: It happened like this. I was stolen right off the street. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to woods and rain, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere...Idea based off of the novel Stolen.
1. Stolen

**Summary: **When Bella makes the split decision to enter a late night bookstore, she doesn't realize it will be her last act of freedom. But fear can turn to love. Can she truly find the man behind the monster or is this simply a case of Stockholm Syndrome? "You had that look in your eyes like you wanted something. Like you wanted it for a long time." Idea based off of the novel Stolen.

_**"Long lost words whisper slowly to me, still can't find what keeps me here. When all this time I've been so hollow inside, I know you're still there." ~Evanscence**_

Chapter 1: Haunted

You saw me before I saw you. You had that look in your eyes. Like you wanted something, like you'd wanted it for a long time.

I wonder now how long you had been watching me before you decided to make your move. Was it hours? Days? _Years_? Did you plan it? You must have. It was too perfect to have been a spur of the moment thing. It seemed to me like you knew exactly what you would do. You thought this through. Carefully planned when you would do this, how you would do this. But how could you have been so sure I would come to you? Am I really that predictable?

Going into the bookshop was just a spur of the moment thing for me, even if your plan was not. I was just on my way back from seeing a movie with Angela and Mike. It was late, dark outside. Mike even offered to walk me back to my car, even though they had parked in the opposite direction. Port Angeles was a dangerous city after dark, but I hadn't parked too far; I could make it to my car within a couple of minutes. Now I wished I had taken him up on that offer. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten your chance.

I was determined to walk a straight path to my car at a brisk pace so I could make it out of there in one piece. Like I said, I hadn't planned on visiting the bookstore. But when I saw it was still open, despite the late hour, I couldn't resist. _Five minutes, _I told myself. I could have five minutes.

I smiled when I stepped inside. The smell of antique books, brewed coffee, and leather chairs was welcoming in the dimmed lighting of the store. This had been the only place where I could really enjoy myself. The only place I was happy in. You ruined that for me, too.

I scanned the shelves of the small store, looking for a title that interested me. It was nearly empty, seeing as it was close to closing time, but I didn't mind so much. It was quieter, and I preferred being by myself. I picked up a familiar title and paid for it at the counter. Instead of leaving, I decided to stay a bit longer and read a few pages, sitting down in one of the leather chairs by the fireplace. I suppose that was my second mistake.

It was then that you decided to approach me.

"_Romeo and Juliet_?"

You startled me. I had thought I was the last one in the store, but apparently I was wrong. You were there with me; Just as you had been for years.

I nodded, glancing down at the book in my hands and then back at you.

"You look like a Shakespeare fan." You smiled, sitting down in the chair across from me. "You don't mind if I sit, do you?" You almost looked worried that I would say no. And maybe I should have. Maybe you would have gone away and continued your stalking from a distance. But that would be rude. So I shook my head instead.

You rubbed your hands together, leaning your elbows on your knees. I noticed you didn't have a book with you. Why else would you be in a bookstore if not to buy a book? I know now that you simply followed me in.

"The one I have at home is really beaten up. I figured I'd just buy a new one." You nodded as if you understood.

"I didn't mean to scare you before when I came over. You just..." You looked at your hands. "You caught my eye." The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk. I bet you thought you were funny. Was this all just a joke to you?

When I didn't answer you looked up at me. "What's your name?"

"Bella." I wouldn't have admitted it then, but you made me uncomfortable. There was something disconcerting about you. It made me uneasy, made my heart speed up and my palms sweaty. It was the kind of feeling you get when walking down the street alone at night. The kind of feeling you get when you're watching a scary movie, right before the killer pops out.

"Bella..." You smiled and put out your hand. "I'm Edward."

At first, I just stared at the hand you offered. I didn't want to touch you. I suspected your skin to be icy and rough by the paleness of it, but it was surprisingly warm and soft in mine. Your skin was smooth and shocked me when I grabbed your hand. My fingers still tingled when you released me. I noticed your smile widen. Did you feel it too?

"Well, Bella, it sure is a pleasure to meet you." You didn't say much after that. You stared at me for a long time, long enough for me to blush. That made you smile again. I wondered if you enjoyed my discomfort. You asked me a few questions and no matter how vague I was, you still seemed to push it. What was I doing in Port Angeles? Where did I go to school? Did I like it there? What were my friends like? Did I have a boyfriend? But my hesitance didn't matter much because you knew the answers already, didn't you?

"I love Forks. But sometimes it's a little overwhelming," I admitted.

"What do you mean? A small town like that...seems like it would be peaceful."

I frowned. "You'd think. I guess most people feel that way, but...I don't know. Small towns, everyone knows everything about you. Everyone gossips. There's no privacy really. Not to mention the rain around here." I had told you that I was new here, moved about two years earlier, but I didn't tell you where from. I'm not sure why I told you all these things. Maybe it was because it was nice to finally confide in someone who I figured I would never see ever again anyway or maybe I just wanted someone to listen. Maybe it was because you actually seemed interested in what I had to say. Either way, I told you. "Sometimes I just wish I could get away from it all."

Something sparked in your eyes when I said that, and you nodded, turning your head to look into the fireplace. I took that moment, when you finally stopped staring at me, to look at you. I mean _really _look at you. There was no denying that you were handsome, probably the most handsome man to go out of his way to have a conversation with me. I noticed your strong jawline and straight nose. I thought your hair was interesting in the way it shot out in different directions, like you just woke up, but still managed to look good. It was a nice color. A light brownish, I guess. More like copper. It reminded me of a penny but looked redder in the light of the fire. Your skin was pale, as I noticed before, and it intensified the dark circles under your eyes. It looked like you hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while. Was it because you were too busy plotting this? Did you stay up at night, thinking of what you would say? Or did you toss and turn, fighting with yourself about whether or not you should go through with it?

When you looked back at me, I gasped at the intensity of your stare. Your eyes were a bright green. Like emeralds. They seemed to glow or sparkle in the dark lighting. I could see the reflection of the flames in your pupils. Those eyes seemed to be looking deep within me, crushing me with the weight of their stare. They seemed conflicted. Like you were trying to tell me something with those eyes. Like you were afraid for me, like you wanted me to figure out your plan right then and there. Like you wanted me to get up and run as fast and as far away from you as I could. But I stayed sitting in the soft leather chair, staring back at you. Unable to look away.

Before you could say anything, the store clerk walked up to us. "We're closing." He nodded toward the door. "I have to lock up."

I remember his nametag said Steve. He had light hair and brown eyes, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that were pushed all the way up his nose. He was decent looking. I wonder if he caught on to the intensity of your stare too because when he looked at you he took a step back.

"No big rush," he stammered, turning away. "Just letting you know."

Did you have that effect on everyone? Anyway, it made me feel a little better that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable around you.

"I guess we should get out of here." You laughed but cut it short, almost like you forced it. Laughter didn't particularly suit you.

I didn't want to leave the comfort of the store, especially with you, but I didn't seem to have any other choice. Steve was getting anxious behind the counter, checking his wristwatch for the third time. So I gave you a tight smile and followed you out the door, clutching my book to my chest like a shield. When we got outside, it was darker than I anticipated. A few more store lights were turned off, the shops closed for the night. The only real light was from the flickering streetlamp on the corner and what squeezed past the clouds from the moon.

"It was nice meeting you," I lied. Without looking at your face again, I spun in the opposite direction, walking as fast as I could without looking like I wanted to sprint. But maybe I should have.

I swear my heart nearly stopped when I heard you keep pace right behind me. I turned my head to look at you, my eyes wide, but you just smiled and nodded in the direction of my car. "I'm parked this way too."

I noted the silver car parked about three spaces from my own. It was a Volvo. It was the kind of car soccer moms drove. I frowned and continued walking. When I got to my door, I fumbled with my keys. You were only ten feet away from me. Eight feet. Seven. Three … I dropped my keys, cursing under my breath.

"Here, I'll get it," you said, nearly bumping heads with me as you crouched to the ground. Then you stood up, dangling my car keys in front of me. When I went to grab them, you pulled your hand back, smirking at me.

"Give me my keys." I tried to keep my voice as strong as possible, but it still shook.

You grinned, tilting your head to the left. "All right. I was just kidding around." You dropped the keys into my hand, and I gripped them tightly, turning around and unlocking my door.

That was my third mistake.

You grabbed me when my back was turned. You held a cloth to my face before I could even blink. My scream was muffled by your hand, and my vision got blurry. I tried to kick you and dropped my book, but my foot only met empty space. You shushed me the way you'd shush a crying toddler. I wished then that Steve would lock up the damn store already and come outside.

I felt myself go heavy, the weight of my body becoming too much for my legs to handle. I fell, going limp in your arms. The last thing I felt was my feet leave the floor as you swooped me up. The last thing I saw was those emerald green eyes.

Then, nothing.

**AN: Quick thanks to the Betas over at PTB!**

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	2. Hidden

**_"This just didn't happen to girls like me. This just didn't happen to anyone." ~Hurricane_  
**

**CHAPTER 2: Hidden**

When I was little, my mom almost lost me in the supermarket. I don't remember how we got separated, but I wasn't afraid when we did. In fact, I made a game out of it. I decided that I knew my mom's shoes so well that I would be able to tell the difference between her and a stranger. So there I was, about five years old, staring at everyone's shoes in the meat department. I spotted them easily—the beaten up white tennis shoes belonging to my mother. Without another thought, I sprinted to her and grabbed her hand, looking up and smiling proudly for winning my own little game. And she smiled back down at me. Only it wasn't my mother. I lost the smile and pulled on my arm, trying to break my hand free, but the lady only gripped me tighter. I nearly panicked until I heard someone shout my name from behind me. The lady dropped my hand, and that was the end of it.

Still, I remember being so convinced that I was going to be kidnapped. I would never see my family again. My mother would search for hours in that supermarket and never find me. I would have to stay with that strange woman forever. But I was just a little girl then, playing a silly game. A silly game I obviously lost, by the way—but a game, nonetheless. What I didn't realize was that there was more than one pair of white tennis shoes in the world. Not all white tennis shoes could be trusted. Not every person wearing white tennis shoes was my mother. People were dangerous and kidnappers were real.

I wonder, were you ever afraid of being kidnapped as a child? I think it's a pretty legitimate fear for little kids. But did you ever think you would become the kidnapper?

I don't really remember the car ride with you. There was a point when I woke up for a minute, dazed out of my mind, staring up at the gray roof of your car. We were moving fast. My vision was blurry around the edges, and there was a smell of campfire smoke mixed with something like lilacs and soap. The road was bumpy and gave me a headache. It was easier to just slip into the darkness again.

When I woke the next time, I was on a bed. Everything was dark around me. For a second, I actually thought I was blind but quickly realized it was the middle of the night. There was a dim light from the moon shining through the window from the left, but I couldn't look in that direction for long. My head throbbed when I lifted it, and my eyes were sore as I tried to scan the room, looking for something familiar.

The room was relatively small and held nothing extravagant. There were two doors in front of the double bed I was in. I assumed one was a closet, the other leading to my potential escape. There was a nightstand to the left of me, an antique lamp sitting on top of it. A small wooden dresser sat against the right wall with a set of clothes neatly folded on its surface.

It was then that I realized I was undressed. I sucked in a breath and brought my hand under the sheet, feeling down to my bare legs. I was still wearing my thin tank top, but you had removed my jeans, leaving me in my underwear. A shudder ran through me as I pictured your hands on me. What else did you do while I was unconscious?

Tears filled my eyes as I cautiously sat up, the pain in my head increasing in pressure. I twisted my body, putting one foot on the floor. Pause. Then the other foot. Gripping the mattress for support, I stood up, cautiously testing my weight. The dizziness increased, but I stood my ground. Slowly, I went to the dresser, grabbing my jeans and slipping them on. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, and I was only putting on jeans. How would I ever make it out the door in such a condition? It felt like I had a hangover mixed with a bad case of the flu.

I listened for movement on the other side of the door and twisted the knob, opening it just enough to peek into the hallway. Empty. It was a good start. The door led to a long hallway. The walls were close enough together that I could stretch out my arms and touch both sides, which was good because I could barely carry my own weight without support. There were two closed doors to my left, one to my right. Plus the room I'd just left. There was an opening at the end of the hallway, where a dim light was shining through. That could either be the way out or where you were waiting. It seemed to be my only hope, so I headed in that direction. The wooden floorboards creaked with age as I tiptoed down the hall, and I cringed. I paused to listen for you again but heard nothing. I edged along the wall more slowly.

Rounding the corner, I found myself in a living room. It appeared to be a log cabin. Everything was made out of wood. Wooden walls, wooden floor, wooden roof, wooden furniture. And the wooden door leading outside. With my exit in view, I picked up my pace. I yanked the door open and nearly fell off the stoop. A blast of fresh, winter air hit my face, and all around me was darkness. There was a small clearing in front of the cabin. Beyond that were trees. Surrounding the entire house was nothing but foliage. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I bit my lip, holding back a sob, and stumbled across the clearing, looking straight ahead. Getting lost in the woods seemed like a better fate than what you no doubt had in store for me. A loud bang froze me in my tracks, and I whipped around. There you were, standing in the doorway I'd just come from, your eyes flaming with anger. I ran, screaming out in fear and pain as jagged rocks and broken twigs pierced my bare feet. I heard you behind me, gaining fast. It wouldn't be much of a fight. I was weak, still feeling the effects of the drugs, and you were fast. You grabbed the back of my shirt but I tugged forward, hearing the rip of fabric.

Breath. In, out. Faster. Run.

I always believed that if I ever had to run for my life, I would probably die. I was a lousy runner and too clumsy for my own good. And you were fast. With a growl of frustration, you threw your body forward, slamming into me, your weight bringing me to the dirt ground. I thrashed under you, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Shh! It's fine, Bella. Be quiet." You cooed, soothingly. You put your hand over my mouth, and I bit down on it as hard as I could. I knew I drew blood; I tasted it on my lips. "Shit."

You recoiled your hand, placing it on my shoulder instead to steady my thrashing. "No! Get off of me!" I screamed.

"Calm down, Bella." You pushed your knee into my back. "It's no use. You're just going to hurt yourself."

"Get off!" I threw my head back, hitting you in the chin, but your grip only tightened as you lifted me up. "No," I cried, hopelessly. "Please."

You dragged me back, my heels digging into the dirt and your fingers digging into my arm. I screamed and sobbed in defeat as we passed over the threshold. You dragged me all the way back to that hallway. All the way back to that room and threw me inside, slamming the door and locking it from the outside.

"No!" I ran to the door, pounding it with my fists. "Let me out!" I kicked and punched. I could hear you on the other side of the door, pacing. I could see the shadows of your shoes. I backed up and threw my body into the door, sure I would have bruises all over me. "Let me out! Let me out! Let. Me. OUT."

I paused, looking around the room. I stomped over to the nightstand, yanking the lamp and pulling it from the socket. With a wild yell, I threw it against the door with as much force as I could muster. It shattered, and your shadow stopped pacing.

"Now!" I coughed. My throat was on fire, raw from all the screaming.

You sighed. "Not until you calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. You just need to calm down."

My screams died out, replaced with soft sobs as I gripped my hair, pulling at the roots. What now?

I crossed the room to the window and ripped down the curtain. I couldn't open it—it wouldn't budge. It was bolted down. I reverted to slamming my hands against the glass instead. The window shook—it wasn't too strong. I banged on it harder and harder, tried kicking up at it until it broke. My right hand went right through the glass. I ripped at the broken shards, trying to make a hole big enough for me to fit through. Soon enough, there was blood all over my arms. Pieces of glass sliced through my skin, and I cried harder.

My body was halfway through the window when your arms wrapped like steel around my torso, pulling me back in. I held onto the windowpane, but you were too strong. My hands tore at your arms, trying to break free. I felt like a crazy person in an asylum or an animal being led to the slaughterhouse. There was another cloth in your hand.

"No...No, no." I repeated it like a mantra, shaking my head. Hot tears ran down my cheeks as you shushed me again.

"This is for your own good," you assured, holding the cloth over my face.

It didn't take long for the darkness to take over again.

**xxxxxxxxx**

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	3. Forever

_"_**_She's not showing any interest in me and she looks like she doesn't want to be here. Should I take off her handcuffs? I thought kidnap victims were supposed to fall in love with their captors? "_**

**― ****Jarod Kintz****, **_**The Titanic would never have sunk if it were made out of a sink**_

**Chapter 3: Forever**

The bright yellow glow shining into the room was what woke me. I groaned, and cracked open my eyes. The glass was missing from where the window was. Bright rays of sunlight pushed past the trees, greedily crawling over the entire room. In a rush, the events from that night came flooding back to me and I gasped, shooting up in the bed. The movement made my head swim and I clamped my eyelids shut.

Wait...there was no glass in the window. I turned my head and, sure enough, everything was cleaned up. The scrapes of glass on the floor had been carefully swept up and even the blood spilled on the ledge was wiped away. But you didn't have time to replace the actual window yet. That meant I could crawl right through it, no problem. I swung myself to the edge of the bed only to nearly fall on my face.

No...you didn't. You couldn't have.

Hot tears rose in my eyes as I examined the ropes tied tightly around my swollen ankles. They were carefully secured in intricate knots around the metal posts at the end of the bed. There was enough slack to allow me some movement, but not nearly enough to leave the bed. I huffed in frustration, pulling my legs against the rope, but it only seemed to tighten their hold on me. Instead, I opted for pulling at the knots and trying to slip my feet through the holes, but the rope was too strong.

I gasped as pain shot through my arms. Right, the glass. Thin white bandages were wrapped delicately around my hands, winding all the way up to my elbows. I frowned, thinking about you handling me again while I was unconscious.

"Sorry about the ropes." I jumped when I heard your voice. You were standing in front of the bed, a glass in one hand and some new bandages the other. "Couldn't have you doing anything drastic and end up hurting yourself again."

You cracked a smile and walked to the side of the bed. I cringed away from you, frowning, and suddenly your smile was gone. "Here." You thrusted the glass in my face and I moved farther away from you. "It's just water." You assured, your frown deepening. When I didn't take it from you, you sighed and placed it on the nightstand.

"Are you hungry?" You asked. I just stared at you.

"I can make you something to eat." You ran your hand through your already tousled hair as my silence continued and let out a frustrated breath. "You really should eat something."

I narrowed my eyes at you and you stared at me, not knowing what else to say. I pulled my leg lightly at the ropes again and your eyes flickered at the movement.

"I'll untie you," You said. I looked up, hopefully. "But only when I'm sure you won't try to repeat any of the antics you pulled." I slumped my shoulders, visibly deflating from your words.

"Here." You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small white packet, laying it next to the water. Aspirin. "I figured you'd need it." You smiled.

When I didn't reach for it, you sighed in defeat as you turned and drifted back to the door.

"Wait." My voice cracked. It still felt raw and was plenty sore from the yelling I did the night before. You turned around quickly, taking a step back in my direction, but I didn't pay you much attention. The burning in my throat became more apparent when I had tried to talk. I reached for the water, clutching the glass in my hands and bringing it to my lips. I nearly moaned as it ran down my throat. The iciness of the water soothed the burning pain.

I finished the entire thing and lowered the glass, looking back at you. You had the biggest smile on your face. I accepted the water you left...it was the smallest gesture, drinking a glass of water, but it seemed to make you immensely happy. So much so that I almost regretted drinking it.

"I'll get you some more." You took the glass from me and darted out of the room. Not a minute passed before you were back again, replacing the glass in my hand. I reached for the packet of Aspirin and ripped it open, taking both pills in my mouth and swallowing them with a gulp of water. I finished half of the glass before setting it back on the table.

You waited patiently, your eyes never leaving me. Following my every movement. It made me uncomfortable, but I needed answers if I intended on getting the hell out of there.

"Who are you?" I asked, refusing to meet your intense stare.

You chuckled. "Edward." You sat on the edge of the bed and I brought my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "I believe we already went through pleasantries."

"I'm not so sure what you said was true," I whispered. It was weird to think that conversation only happened the night before. It seemed so long ago, unless...

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked.

You frowned. "A couple of days."

"A couple of days!" I gasped. I couldn't possibly have slept that long.

"Two to be exact." You nodded towards the window. "That's how I had so much time to clean everything and bandage up your arms."

"And tie me to the bed." I mumbled.

You ignored my comment. "Unfortunately, I haven't had time to replace the glass yet. I got a new piece though, so don't worry. It'll be good as new by tonight."

Awkward silence filled the room as you continued to stare at me. I tried to look at anything other than your eyes. The window, the door, the bed, the ropes wrapped around me. Eventually, I settled my gaze on the hand you had resting on your knee. I noticed it was wrapped in the same kind of bandages as my wrists. I almost smiled, knowing I had caused that.

"I didn't lie to you, Bella."

"Huh?"

"About me. About anything I told you when we talked...I know I didn't say much about myself. But what I did admit was the truth." You nodded, your tone almost nervous as if I wouldn't accept what you were telling me. I knew you wanted me to look back at you, but I refused to grant you the satisfaction.

"So tell me now," I said, my voice more confident. "Who is Edward?"

You were quiet for a long time. So long that I finally looked up at you. You were biting the inside of your cheek and your eyebrows were furrowed. You looked conflicted. I was just about to ask what your problem was when you spoke.

"Well...I'm twenty-four years old. I drive a silver Volvo," You shrugged, "Uhh...Gemini...Long walks on the beach." You laughed and I scowled at you.

I didn't think you were funny. You kidnapped me for God's sake and here you were, making jokes like it was no big deal. Like you didn't take me against my will. Like I wasn't tied to the bed at that moment.

"Edward what?" I asked.

You smirked. "Just Edward."

"Fine 'Just Edward'. What do you want from me?" You tilted your head, perhaps surprised at my new found courage.

"Company," You said.

"Company," I repeated. "You kidnap me against my will and when I ask why, you say it's because you want company?" I raised my voice and your frown deepened but you nodded.

Was this for real? I knew I was pushing it by yelling at you, but I'd be damned if I was there because some psycho path was lonely.

"Then get a pet!" I threw up my hand in anger and winced, feeling the sting in my arm.

You didn't say anything. You just got up and walked to the window, gazing outside while I took a few deep breaths. Your head turned in my direction.

"I realize you're upset and that's normal. I expected you to be at first." You turned, leaning your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest. "But those feelings will pass."

I gaped at you as you smiled with such firmness at your own words. I couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth.

"Pretty soon, you'll learn to like it here. You can be happy." You kept smiling at me and I shook my head, my voice falling into a soft whisper as a new feeling of dread fell over me.

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

You frowned in confusion, tilting your head at me as if my question didn't make an ounce of sense. "Well...forever, of course."

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	4. Home

_"**...It was like a grisly horror film, only I hadn't made it to the knife scene yet." ~Stolen: A Letter to my Captor**_

**Chapter 4: Home**

Four days … It had been four days, three hours, twenty-four minutes, and fifteen seconds since you kidnapped me. Time passed slowly. Watching the sun rise and set was all I could find the strength to do since our last conversation.

I had burst into tears shortly after you told me you were keeping me here. That must have freaked you out because you were out the door and away from me before I could even blink. Maybe if I continued freaking out I could convince you I was crazy and you wouldn't want me anymore. Maybe you would let me go. Maybe you wouldn't keep me here forever.

Forever. Forever was an awfully long time.

It had only been a day since I had been fully conscious and already I felt I was losing my mind. Sometimes, I sat and watched the flies buzzing around the window. Sometimes, I lay in bed waiting for sleep that would never come. Sometimes, I watched the cracks on the wall, imagining myself small enough to fit through one of them and away from you.

You came in to fix the window that morning and replaced the glass. I wouldn't meet your stare, but I watched you work when your back was turned. Your muscles strained beneath your tight t-shirt and your arms clenched. I hated myself for noticing your strong physique and had torn my eyes away, focusing instead on the sound of the hammer and glass. I wanted to cry again as you finished replacing the window. It was as if you were locking me up even further. Like I was closed in that room forever. No escape.

I refused any food or water you presented me with and that was getting more and more difficult. My stomach kept clenching painfully and I had a searing headache. I couldn't even remember the last time I ate something solid. I heard you cooking dinner in the kitchen, and the smell seemed to drift right down the hallway and into the room, taunting me.

Yes, I was hungry and yes, I wanted food. But not from you. I didn't want to touch anything you made. I would rather die of starvation than come in contact with anything your hands touched. I thought I would rather die at that point than do much of anything. Would you let that happen? If I really tried to starve myself to death, would you force-feed me to keep me alive and with you?

You undid the ropes around my ankles early that afternoon. I guess my limp, lifeless form convinced you that I wasn't going anywhere, and as funny as the idea was, you didn't want me to be uncomfortable.

I rolled over on the bed and my stomach growled loudly as I stared out the window. I blinked.

How much longer would I be able to keep this up? The smell of food grew stronger and stronger, and the muscles in my stomach tightened, demanding attention. Starving to death was an incredibly painful fate, and I was pretty convinced you wouldn't allow my stubbornness to get that far.

With newfound determination and another growl from my stomach I sat up, slowly swinging my legs off the bed. Walking was difficult. My head spun and my vision was blurry, but somehow I made it down the hallway and into the living room. The kitchen was just to the right of that, and I leaned against the doorway, silently watching you.

You were hunched over the stove, stirring something in a large pot. You were so concentrated; you didn't seem to notice my presence. Steam rose from the pot and my mouth watered as I breathed in the delicious scent. I didn't care what was in it. It could have been turtle soup or spiced-up toilet water for all I cared, I would have eaten just about anything at that moment. I couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped me, and you turned your head, smiling when you saw me.

"Hey there." You grinned. "Hungry?"

My stomach rumbled in response and you laughed, taking out a couple of bowls and scooping some of the substance into each. "You know, I'm glad you decided to finally come out. You had me worried there." You placed the bowls on the small table in the middle of the kitchen and sat down. There were two places already set with silverware and I wondered if it had been set that way for days. I focused on one of the knives on the table. It didn't look too sharp. But it was a weapon.

When I didn't move, you glanced up at me.

"Don't be shy." You gestured to the seat across from you. "I won't bite. You must be starving."

Reluctantly, I took the seat. My mouth watered as I looked into the bowl of stew.

I grabbed my spoon and greedily shoveled the thick soup into my mouth nearly moaning in response. It was good; beef stew with vegetables and spices. My stomach relaxed in appreciation. Who knew kidnappers could cook?

The sound of clinking silverware and my heavy swallowing was the only noise to fill the room and when I finished my portion and looked up, you were staring at me. You seemed to do that a lot. I couldn't imagine what it was you found so interesting, but it was starting to annoy me.

"Do you want more?" you asked, taking my bowl and filling it with seconds before I could respond.

I finished the second bowl just as fast. With nothing else to do, I stood up ready to go back to my personal prison but you stood with me.

"Wait." You paused. "Don't you want to … talk?"

I raised an eyebrow in response as you scratched the back of your neck.

"I mean … I could show you around if you'd like. There's not much to show, but it really is pretty beautiful out here."

I looked over my shoulder to the dark hallway leading back to my room and back at you. There really wasn't much of an option. I could stare at the cracks in the wall some more, or I could let you show me around. Seeing as I was just about ready to rip my hair out in boredom and frustration, I went with the latter.

You nodded and put the dishes into the sink before walking passed me and into the living room. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the rooms in the cabin." You gestured for me to follow you, and I nodded waiting for you to turn your back again. When you did, I grabbed the dull steak knife off the table, and swiftly slipped it into my pocket. Watching you walk into that dark hallway made me wonder yet again if this was the part where you killed me. I'd be damned if I wasn't prepared for that.

"Well, there's your room of course." You opened the door across the hall from my room, revealing the bathroom. "The bathroom, obviously."

The next door to the right revealed an even smaller bedroom than mine. It had a cot-like bed and a single cabinet-like dresser. The walls were empty and there were no windows. It looked more like a closet than a bedroom really, the pillow on the cot was the only hint that someone slept here.

"This is where I've been staying." You leaned back, allowing me a closer look but I didn't go inside.

"This is where you sleep?" I asked. It couldn't be very comfortable. I think I'd rather sleep on the couch in the living room than have to be squished in here.

You blinked at me. "For now." You turned away, closed the door and moved to the one further down the hallway. I didn't bother thinking over your answer.

"This is the den. It's about the size of your room." You stepped inside, switched on the light, and motioned me to come in. There was a small couch and two windows on the back wall. A bookshelf was to the left and a lamp stood in the corner. I ran my hand along the dusty spines of the books on the shelves, bending down to read the titles. _Wuthering Heights. Jane Eyre. Emma. Hamlet _… classics. All familiar titles to me. There was also a dictionary and a few almanacs.

I noticed you nod from the corner of my eye.

"Anything you need to know about the area you can find in one of those books. It's pretty interesting actually. I mean the wildlife and plant life around here."

I stood straight, glancing at the old piano on the other side of the room. "Is that yours?" I asked.

You shook your head. "I don't play it." You shifted on your feet, almost nervously, and cleared your throat. "None of these doors are ever locked by the way. You're allowed to go wherever you want. We can even hike some of the trails around here."

"I don't hike." I stated, turning on my heel and walking out.

You followed me, keeping up with my fast pace. "Well, you can try it. It's pretty fun and it's peaceful out here. Besides, some fresh air might do you good."

I spun around to face you as I got to my bedroom door, glaring at your hopeful expression. "You know what would do me good? Getting away from you. Going home. Not feeling like a trapped rat."

You frowned. "This is your home."

I couldn't stop the tears from rising in my eyes. Instead of seeming even weaker in front of you, I turned to slam the door in your face, but you caught it at the last second.

"Bella." You stared, your eyes silently pleading with me. "Just let me show you."

I shook my head. "I don't want anything to do with you."

"You will," you stated, your voice determined. "It might take some time … but you will."

**xxxx**

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	5. Helpless

_**"I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to my grief. It felt better, somehow, to be helpless. I didn't feel ashamed." ~S.J. Watson, Before I Go To Sleep**_

**Chapter 5: Helpless**

I began to keep track of the days I was trapped there. I used the knife I stole to make tallies in the side of the bed. One stroke for the night you stole me. Another for the night I woke up. Two for when I passed out ... I lost track after that. The rise and set of the sun was the only indication of time I had. Eventually I gave up on my tallying and ran my fingertips over the carved markings I had made. How long would it take for someone to come find me? Was anyone even looking anymore?

Your patience was extraordinary. Though you asked nearly everyday, you didn't push me to go outside or do anything with you. I had expected to be dead by then, but apparently you had other plans. My thoughts immediately went to Charlie and the conversation you and I had earlier that day.

"People are looking for me. My dad. He's the chief of police you know."

"I know."

"He'll have the whole station looking for me. The whole town even."

"Probably."

"And he has connections. There will be news reports ... flyers with my face on them. Someone will find me."

You tilted your head, thinking that over. "Unlikely."

I glared at you. "Why?"

"I brought you here in the backseat of my car. You were unconscious the whole time and no one saw you. In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere. There's nothing else for miles." You smiled. "It's just you and me."

The slamming of a screen door broke me out of the memory. This happened everyday at twilight. I was getting used to your routine. I made sure to memorize it. You woke early at dawn and I could hear you wash up in the bathroom across the hall. Then you went outside. Sometimes I could hear you banging and hammering in the yard. Your heavy grunts echoed throughout the house as you lifted and dropped heavy lumber. The swing of your axe whistled as it cut through the air when you chopped wood.

Other times it was deathly silent. I would strain my ears and hear nothing but the chirp of an occasional bird. No matter how hard I listened, there was never the roar of an airplane or car. I missed the bustle of Seattle. Hell, I even found myself longing for the crowded hallways of Forks High. There were days I thought I'd suffered hearing damage because it was so silent. We really were in the middle of nowhere, you and I.

A couple of hours would pass before you came back in. You would make breakfast and always offer me some. It was some kind of thick oatmeal and toasted bread. After that you would leave the cabin again. I watched you walk to a shed a few yards away and close the door. I wondered what you did in there for hours at a time. For all I knew it was where you kept the other kidnapped girls. Or worse.

It got cold early in the day . The warmest part of the house was in front of the fireplace. You were always sure there was a fire roaring by 4pm. I sat there and thought of practical ways to escape. I had to. If I stopped planning, then that would be it. I might as well be dead.

You were persistent in trying to start a conversation with me. Too bad I still treated you like a leper. You can't blame me. Every time you even looked at me, I stiffened. The very sound of your voice caused me to freeze and I wanted to scream. My jaw would lock and I would back up into the corner of the living room, the corner next to the fireplace. My hand automatically reaching for the blunt knife I carried in my pocket.

When you were gone, I took the time to search the house. I searched under the cot in your room, flipping over your pillow and shaking out your sheets. I tore through the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers. Looking under mugs and appliances.

I was searching for keys—car keys, house keys, anything that might be useful. I was always looking for weapons.

I tore my way through the kitchen drawers. When I got to the bottom one, it wouldn't open. I pulled harder at it, using all the force I could muster and when it didn't budge I looked harder for a key. I stood on the counter top, reaching up and running my hand along the top row of cabinets. Nothing but dust resided there.

There must have been a reason that drawer was locked. There was a reason you didn't want me going in there. There was something you didn't want me to find...

I began to test my willpower and wean myself into communicating with you. One day I would nod or shake my head in response to you. The next time, I tried vocalizing my answers. On what I guessed to be my third week with you, I asked you a question. Soon I was able to keep up a conversation. I figured if I had any chance of escaping, it would be by outsmarting you. If you believed I was starting to accept my fate, you might have let up a little on my lock down.

"Why's that locked?" I nodded to the kitchen drawer and your head shot up in surprise. You had been busy whittling something out of a piece of wood you had chopped that morning. I kept my eyes on the sharp blade you worked with. It made me nervous.

You turned to look at the bottom drawer and frowned. "For your safety."

"My safety?"

You gave me a look. "Wouldn't want you trying to hurt yourself again." You focused back on your task, running the blade over the slick wood. "After your window incident, we can't be too careful."

"I wasn't trying to hurt myself," I mumbled, following your blade's movements.

"What's in it?" I tried.

You ignored that one. I stood up, ran over to the drawer and pulled at it in anger. I let out a frustrated yell and screamed as you lunged at me. Your arms clamped around me like a vise. You pulled me back and I slammed against you, thrashing my legs and twisting back and forth.

You picked me up by the waist and threw me over your shoulder, holding my legs down as you stomped through the hall. You swung my bedroom door open and threw me down onto the bed. I bounced down on the mattress and grabbed the blunt knife from my pocket, pulling it out and swinging it at you.

You dodged the blade effortlessly, grabbing my wrist tightly and twisting the knife out of my hand. I yelped in pain and you dropped my wrist as if the sound shocked you.

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean..." You frowned deeply, grabbed the knife off the bed and left, slamming the door loudly behind you.

x~x~x~x~x~x

That night I laid in bed, my hands clamped into fists and my eyes staring blankly at the lantern beside my head. The moon was full and I left the curtains open. The moonlight from outside cast shadows along my wall and the crickets chirped loudly. Something howled in the distance; a coyote maybe. It didn't matter. I longed to be out there as well, in the dark with them. And away from you.

x~x~x~x~x~x

"What do you do all day?" I asked.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You almost choked on your food. I wished you had.

"When you go outside, I mean. When you go into that shed...what is it you do in there?"

You grabbed your napkin, wiping the grease off your fingers.

"Well I," you began. "I guess I make things. Compose sometimes."

"Compose what?" I questioned curiously. "Can I see?"

You stared at me wide eyed as if no one ever asked you such a thing. I guess no one ever had. You looked down at your plate again, considering my question and licked your lips. My eyes were drawn to the action.

"I don't want you trying to escape again," you admitted.

"I won't," I assured. You didn't seem convinced. "Besides, there's nowhere for me to go anyway. You said it yourself."

You stared out at the blackness behind the window, your eyebrow furrowed with a conflicted expression.

"I want to trust you." Your gaze darted back to me. "Can I?"

"I won't even try to run," I lied. "I just want to see what you do all day."

I still don't think you were very convinced. "Besides, you'll be with me the whole time."

I even smiled a little. God knows where that came from, but I made myself sick from doing it. It seemed to do the trick, however, because you smiled back at me. Your eyes sparked with childlike hope and as hard as it was, I forced the smile to stay on my lips. Though my own eyes reflected back into yours, hating you.

"All right." You nodded. "I'll show you."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**I'm sorry for the wait. Real life callings, you know!**

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**I wanted to make this longer, but I decided to split the chapter into two because the second half wasn't quite ready to publish and I wanted to give you an update. **

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	6. The Horror

_**'"Who says I'm not Superman?" You were looking at me with one eye closed against the sun. I shrugged.  
"You would have rescued me by now if you were Superman." I said quietly.  
"Who says I haven't?"' **_

**_~Lucy Christopher, Stolen: A Letter to My Captor _**

Chapter 6: The Horror

I didn't sleep much that night. Anticipation and fear for the hours to come kept me awake and alert. This may have been my last possible chance to escape. After this, there was no way you would trust me again. I would be kept locked away—which was exactly why I had to escape this time.

When dawn finally broke, I jumped out of bed and crossed over to the dresser. I opened the top drawer and peered at my clothing choices. There were t-shirts and tank tops for the most part but I did notice a dark blue dress hanging in the closet along with a couple of nicer skirts and blouses. Not that I would ever wear those...

I grabbed two tank tops, a thin long-sleeved shirt, and a t-shirt to layer. The weather could be really unpredictable—at least it was in Washington. I didn't want to be unprepared, but those were all the layers I could wear without them being too noticeable. I needed them for warmth at night. It wasn't the plan, but there was obviously a chance I could be stuck in the woods for a few days.

I grabbed a pair of hiking boots sitting in the closet and slipped them on. They were size seven and a perfect fit. After some consideration, I grabbed a heavy raincoat as well. The skies were clear now, but I'd be damned if I just ended up freezing to death later.

A few more minutes passed before I headed to the kitchen. I sighed softly, taking in the dark wooden features of the room. The cabinets looked worn and the knobs of the sink were rusted. The old faucet was dripping. I noticed you standing at the door. You had your back turned, looking out into the green yard. The morning sunlight hit your skin, making your strong features shine.

"I'm ready."

You turned at the sound of my voice and I prayed that you would mistake the nervousness in it for excitement or interest. I noticed your eyes flicker to the jacket in my hand, and I clenched my jaw.

"You won't be needing that today."

I shifted my weight. "But it might rain..."

You looked back out at the sunny yard and then to me, narrowing your eyes. "We're not going far," you insisted.

Reluctantly, I draped the jacket over the kitchen chair and followed you outside. The sun's rays tickled the back of my neck, and I breathed in the fresh air. It felt close to 55 degrees that day. The warmest day we'd had since I'd been there.

You strolled forward a few feet and turned to look back at the house. I followed your gaze to the roof, noticing a row of shiny panels planted on it.

You pointed to them. "Our energy source. Hot water, too." I gave you a blank stare. "It's solar powered … obviously, we're not on a grid."

"Why not?"

You stared at me like I was some kind of idiot.

"But it's usually cloudy here..." I mumbled.

"Solar energy still works. You can still get a sunburn on a cloudy day, can't you?" You shot me a look. "The UV rays still get through the clouds. The panels don't produce much, but we don't use up a lot of energy anyway."

"What else is out here?" I asked.

"Tons of stuff," you answered. "Mountains, fields, structures … most things are a little ways through the woods. Not too far. There's even a garden by the stream. Past the Hideaways."

"The Hideaways?"

"Yeah. It's a bunch of rocks and boulders molded together. They formed caves and some tunnels hundreds of years ago. I call it that because it just seems so out of place, like it doesn't belong. There's a big pool in there too." You shot me a glance. "Do you ever go swimming?"

"I don't swim." It was a lie, of course.

You shrugged, seemingly unfazed. "It's a cool set up. Natural structures, you know?" You stared at the tree line and gestured for me to follow you.

You walked a few feet into the forest, but I stopped at the borderline of the trees.

"Now, when you start going off on your own, don't feel like you'll get lost or anything." You pointed to a bright, yellow piece of duck tape stuck on one of the trees. "I marked trails for you. Yellow takes you to the Hideaways. Eventually it will cross with blue. That'll take you to the stream and the garden."

"Can we go there … to the Hideaways, I mean?"

Your eyes swept over me, assessing my intent. "Maybe tomorrow."

You walked back to me and turned to stare into the forest again, a small smile playing at your lips. "It goes on forever. There are no people for miles and miles … Doesn't that just make it better?"

I blinked. You could have been joking, but I didn't think you were. You looked at peace here, like you loved the isolation, whereas it was starting to drive me insane. I looked out into the space with you. It did seem never-ending. I suppose in another situation it could have been beautiful. An enchanted forest even. Like a fairytale.

My skin suddenly prickled, and I knew you were watching me. I noticed your hand lift next to my face, like you wanted to touch me.

"Please don't."

You pulled back your hand, running it through your copper hair instead.

"Come on," you ordered, turning to walk back to the big shed.

You paused at the door, reaching up to your neck and pulling off a long chain that was hidden under your shirt. There were four keys dangling off of it.

You looked at me before using one of the keys to open the door. "I don't want to show you this if you're not ready."

When I didn't respond, you swung open the door and I held my breath. A cold draft hit my face as I stared into the dark. I could see a few blurry shapes inside, but nothing else. It seemed bigger than I first expected. Suddenly, I didn't want to go in there. My body froze on the spot as my heart rate sped up. I had this horrible vision of you killing me in there; strangling me in that cold, stabbing me with a knife, leaving my body to rot, or throwing me into the forest for the coyotes. You had that strange half-smile on your face like you wanted to...

I shook my head, taking a step backward. "I don't think—"

"You're going to like this," you promised, grabbing me from behind and pushing me into the dark.

I couldn't remember when I started screaming. Maybe it was when I heard the door slam behind us and the room turned pitch black. I do remember you clutching my shoulders tighter and tighter, holding me steady as I began to thrash. I struggled against your steel grip as you pulled me farther into that darkness. I spat and kicked.

"Don't move!" you yelled. "Stop, you're going to ruin everything!"

I bit your arm and you loosened your grip, pushing me to the ground. I hit the dirty floor hard and my knee throbbed. I scrambled away and you jumped on top of me, attempting to still my movements.

"I said don't move!" You were hysterical.

I felt my panic getting the best of me as we wrestled on the floor. But I had made a promise to myself: I wasn't going down without a fight. If you were going to kill me, I would cause some damage myself.

I thrust my elbow back, hearing you grunt as it came in contact with your chest or stomach. I turned, grabbing for your neck and tearing my nails along your skin. You hissed in pain and released me.

I moved around you, scrambling for where I thought was the door. I tripped and fell again into the wall. My hands hit something wet against it. Had you hit me without me noticing? Was I bleeding?

I felt along the wall for the door. All the way along, my hands smeared the wetness. I felt other things hanging against it too. Hard things, sharp things; Knives? There was some material. Clothes of the other girls you killed?

"Bella, STOP! Just stay where you are!" you begged, desperate to stop me.

I couldn't find the door. I couldn't get out. I cried harder, screaming as I heard you thump after me. Any second and there would be an axe in my head. I would feel a knife in my back.

Then you pulled the curtains open and I saw everything.

xxxxx

**Uh-oh!**

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	7. A Crazed Sort of Normal

_**"I wouldn't want you to think I'm repulsive," you said, half smiling.  
**_**_"Too late."  
_****_You opened your other eye to squint at me. "Will you ever give me a break?"_**

_**~Lucy Christopher, Stolen: A Letter to My Captor**_

**Chapter 7**

There was no blood. There were no bodies or instruments of torture. There were only rocks and cans and brushes around the shed. There was also mud and dirt. Papers were scattered on the ground, some ripped in my haste to escape. I was sitting in the middle of it all.

I stared at my palms in confusion at the sticky substance that stained my skin. It was bright red and all over my hands and arms. I thought it was blood at first, but nothing hurt. I rubbed the thick liquid between my fingers, examining it.

"It's paint." You breathed. "Made from rocks and plants. From the life out here."

I spun around at the sound of your voice, searching for you. You stood directly in front of the door, blocking my only exit. You looked angry. Your breath was labored, and there was a wild look in your eyes as you surveyed the damage I had made. I took a step backward, glancing around for something to protect me, but only twigs and leaves were in reach. No weapons.

My back hit the wall behind me and I paused, watching you. It was difficult to guess your next move. Would you try to hurt me now? Could I get past you and through the door? The chances of that were slim to none. I was trapped.

Your face was bright red with anger, and you closed your wild eyes, trying to calm yourself. Your expression was conflicted, like you were having a battle with your emotions. Your fists clenched, the knuckles turning white from the pressure. A vein stood out against the skin on your right arm. I had never seen you so crazed. You reminded me of a mental patient who forgot to take his pills. You were still as stone, regardless of your obvious fury.

It scared the hell out of me, and I held my breath, afraid of making any sudden movements that might startle you.

Your eyes opened, and you furrowed your eyebrows as if you were in physical pain. The scattered papers on the ground were what broke you. A soft groan escaped your lips, and tears fell from your eyes, slipping down your cheeks and over your strong jaw.

I had never seen a man cry before. It made me even more nervous, seeing you broken like that. It was as if your strength slipped away with every falling tear. You didn't look so dangerous anymore.

When I couldn't bear to watch you anymore, I took a deep breath and focused instead on the walls. They were streaked with bright colors. Some twigs and flowers stuck to them. When you finally moved, my eyes flickered back to your face. You weren't crying anymore, just looking. Looking at the mess of the walls I had made, the mess on the floor. Looking at me.

Finally, you sighed and tiredly shook your head. "You're standing in my painting."

I glanced down at my feet, lifting my boot from the ground and frowning at the sticky paint that stuck to it.

"I made it all. They were paintings of the forest and mountains mostly … some skies and sunsets too. Paintings of the life out here … patterns." Your eyes tightened again as you studied the damage some more. "I guess it's sort of better this way. You're a part of it now."

My arms shook as I followed the streaks of paint I had made. I looked at your tear-stained face and the tension in your jaw. I wasn't sure what to say or do. How could I get past you and out of the room without upsetting you further? How were people supposed to act with madmen?

"The music on the other hand..." You paused, crouching down to pick up two ripped halves of paper. "...is destroyed."

"Music?" I whispered.

You nodded towards the corner of the room, and I noticed for the first time a shiny piano sitting there. It looked newer than the one that sat in the den at the cabin. That one seemed broken and uncared for. This one was loved.

"I thought you said it wasn't yours?" I questioned, tilting my head in your direction.

You shook your head. "I said I didn't play it. And I don't play that one…I don't even play this one. Not really." You crumpled up the papers in your hand and threw the garbage across the room. You rubbed your red eyes and stood back up. "I just compose. It calms me down."

I swallowed heavily. It was difficult to wrap my head around the idea of you playing the piano. It seemed so innocent. So normal. In my mind, you were crazy and unstable. You had fits of fury and kidnapped girls off the street. You didn't paint and you didn't compose music.

It made me uncomfortable to think of you more as a regular person with regular interests and emotions. It was easier to hate you.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you said, your voice level again. "I was afraid for the paintings. I've been working on them for a long time."

A pang of guilt went through me, and I hated you for that too. I was the victim here. I wasn't going to feel bad for you. "I thought you were going to…I thought…" The images were too gruesome to get the words out.

"I know what you thought." You sighed. You ran a hand through your tangled hair. Your expression was serious, and you seemed tired.

"Just relax, okay? We can't both go on like this. You have to trust me. It's for the best." Your face was sincere, as if you actually did want what was best for me. How strange…did you truly think at the time that kidnapping me was for the best?

I stepped around the mess on the floor, trying not to ruin the painting any more than I already had. I stood in front of you, my heart pounding in my chest. It put me on edge being this close to you. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet yours. My body shook, but I kept my voice strong and light.

"Okay," I said. Your eyes were wide and childlike. I tried to sound friendly. I heard that works with crazy people.

I sighed. "Just let me go," I pleaded. "Please?" I glanced at the door again, trying to soothe you with my tone. "It'll be okay. Just for a little bit." Again, I glanced at your face, willing you to say yes.

You couldn't hold my gaze. You turned away from me, walking towards the corner where the piano stood. Tears ran down your face again. "Fine."

You said it so softly, I thought I'd imagined it. After all this time, I hadn't expected you to say yes. You hid your face from me, crossing your arms over your chest as if to shield you from the pain you were feeling. "I won't stop you." You paused. "I'll just save you when you get lost."

I didn't wait to hear it again. I spun around, running to the exit. I expected you to grab me, stop me at the last second like it was a cruel joke, but you never moved. You made a sort of choking noise behind me.

The bright light from the sun blinded me as I opened the door and sprinted across the lawn towards the trees. I ran straight into the forest. I ran past the trees as they became thicker around me. I ran still as the sun set and darkness surrounded me.

All the way, I never looked back.

XXX

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	8. The Hideaways

Disclaimer: I do not own Stolen. Or Twilight.

_**"Where are you going?" I asked.  
"The middle of nowhere."  
"I thought this was it."  
"Nah." You shook your head. "This is just the edge."**_

_**~Stolen: A Letter to my Captor **_

**Chapter 8**

I can't remember a time I was more agile than when I was running through those woods and away from you. I pushed past shrubs, jumped over exposed roots; I hardly noticed my shortness of breath or the sweat running down my forehead. I was especially glad for those boots I wore.

I finally allowed myself to catch my breath as I neared the boulders you had mentioned earlier that day. I couldn't have ran too far then. Maybe about a mile...or a mile and a half...not far enough. The sun was almost set, and the forest coated in black. There was only a pinch of fire-orange light peeking through the trees to outline the boulders, so I had a decision to make: I could explore the shelter in front of me, or take my chances in the endless, unfamiliar woods.

I bit my lip in frustrated indecision until finally, a single wolf howled in the distance and a loud bang echoed against the tree trunks behind me, making me realize just how close to the cabin I actually was. Decision made: squat in the shelter until dawn.

The path inside the structure was rocky and uneven, getting narrower as I ventured further inside. Eventually, the path became so narrow I could reach out both of my arms and lay my palms flat against the rock walls. It was almost as though the walls were closing in on me, and I suddenly felt claustrophobic. A white pipe lead down the path into the cave, which I used as a marker. I could not imagine what it was for or why it was placed there, but I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I chose to follow it.

I hurried along the path, tripping over the pipe as my eyes fought to adjust to the darkness of the cave. At first I thought I was imagining the green tinted light just ahead of me. Was I at another exit from the Hideaways already?

A few more yards of careful steps and I reached the source of the light, breathing in a sigh of relief as the walls opened up, and I stepped into a large clearing. It wasn't the end of the caves.

The clearing was the size of a small gymnasium, and the source of the greenish light sat in the middle of it...a pool of water with liquid so clear I could see the pebbles sparkling at the bottom. Vegetation grew on the edges of the water, and beside the rock walls, vines stretching up their sides, spreading their arms out above. There was enough roch overhead to cover the pool; the rest of the open patches allowed the light from the moon to shine down on the water and the stars reflect against the surface, making the pool sparkle and shimmer.

I gazed down, my eyes following the pipe that had lead me there to a much smaller pool off to the side. I could only guess that was where we got our drinking water from back at the cabin. The soft trickling sound of running water echoed off the walls, a small waterfall running into the pool from a break in the ceiling.

There were other pathways too that lead away from the clearing and further into the cave in different directions. I shivered as a sudden fear swept over me; those paths could be hiding anything in their darkness. Snakes, bats..._bodies_. I pushed those morbid thoughts from my mind, focusing on a small stream that branched off the pool and danced its way down one of the paths and into a darkness I was unfamiliar with.

It was one of the most brilliant places I had ever seen. The Hideaways sung with the music of creation, and in that one short moment, I felt hope.

I skirted slowly along the edge of the pool, marveled by the water that seemed to shine with bright blue and green color. I wondered how deep it actually was. I crouched down and stuck my hand into the water, then pulled it back with a gasp. It was cold, ice-cold, almost.

I was suddenly very aware of the sandpaper feeling of my tongue and licked my dry lips. I wanted to stick my head right into that water and just drink it all up, but I just sat there, dehydrated, resting on my heals, and staring at it.

I didn't know if I could drink it, you see. I didn't know what was in it. All I could think about was a TV show I saw where an explorer drank from a river and a tiny fish swam into his stomach and began eating his insides; then a doctor had to stick a tube down his throat to get it out.

There were no doctors lurking in the Hideaways, and I didn't want a tiny fish swimming inside me.

Frustrated, I paced around to the opposite side of the pool and turned toward the paths in the rock. There were three in front of me. I pattered over to the one on the right and peered in; it was so dark. I was curious to see what other rooms the Hideaways held, but I feared I would get lost in that darkness. There was just enough light in the pool room from the moon and the water that seemed to glow with its own light for me to see a few feet in front of me.

I took a breath, glancing back at the pool behind me and to the darkness once again, and ducked inside the passage. At first it wasn't so bad. The light from the pool room was enough for me to see where I was going, but eventually it became so dark, I couldn't even see my own hand in front of my face and was forced to turn back. The pathway in the middle grew so tight and narrow as I advanced that I couldn't take another step if I wanted to. The one on the left lead to the back of the Hideaways and into the woods outside.

I realized how cold it had gotten the second I took a step outside. The rocks in the caves must have held in the heat from the day, though not much. Back in the pool room, I sat hunched against the rocks, my teeth chattering against each other. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried not to cry.

I hadn't been outside at night there and didn't realize just how cold it could get. Back home, the temperature dropped easily, and I took that as hope that I wasn't too far from there. I tilted my head back and stared up at the stars through one of the breaks in the ceiling. They were so beautiful and bright. If I wasn't so cold, I might have stared at them forever. At home, I rarely saw stars due to the constant cloud covering. I wanted to get lost in them. I wanted them to swallow me up in their endlessness and take me away from there. Then, everything might be okay.

Xxx

Dawn crept up on the night; a soft pink light casting away the darkness as it peeked over the trees, and I had my idea. The waterfall that fell from the opening in the ceiling had rocks on both sides of it and a tree with thick branches and barely any leaves stuck its head out of the opening, leaning against the boulder. I could climb.

Carefully, I stepped onto the first rock, balancing my weight and bringing myself to the next one. They were flat and acted like uneven stairs. Halfway up to the opening, they thinned out and became unsteady. I rested a hand on the bark of the tree next to me. When I was little, I loved climbing trees. My mom stopped me from trying after I fell and broke my arm when I was six. It felt awkward to climb one again. I was nervous about my own lack of coordination, and I couldn't figure out where to put my feet. Soon, I got the hang of it and slowly ascended. One branch was thinner than I initially thought and cracked under my feet, forcing me to pull myself to another one before it broke and fell to the ground. It was pure determination that kept me climbing after that. When I got to the top, I clung to the uppermost branches for dear life, resting my side against the trunk. I took a deep breath and looked out.

There was nothing but leaves and bark. More endless woods. I used the branches to turn myself around, scratching the back of my neck on one in the process. Nothing.

There was no town, no lights, not even a road that I could see. Just the same endless forest as I had seen from the cabin. Most of the trees were much taller than mine, but I had hoped on at least seeing a road; Maybe a light peeking from behind the leaves. Some sign that I wasn't truly alone. I wanted to scream then. The only thing that stopped me was my fear of you hearing me. Instead, I laid my cheek against the bark and cried. I thought about my parents. About Charlie and what he thought when I didn't come home that night. What he was doing at that moment … if he was crying too.

That was when I heard you.

My cries silenced instantly, and my ears immediately focused on the sounds again. I glanced around the horizon, and then peeked closer to the ground. There! You were driving an off-roading Jeep, and I wondered again where you kept the cars. The trees were thick and spaced out enough to leave room for the Jeep to fit through. I watched you circle the Hideaways, wondering what it was you were doing. At first I thought there had always been a fence. Then, I realized you were putting it up right then. My heart sank, and I choked back another sob. That's why you hadn't followed me—you were driving around the Hideaways the whole time, fencing me in like an animal. I had been so caught up in getting through the rocks that I hadn't even heard the car.

I watched with tears running down my face as you built the fence. You worked quickly and efficiently. You built it with what appeared to be chicken wire and wooden stakes. It only took maybe two minutes for you to finish one stake and move onto the next. A couple more and the fence would be complete.

I leaned my head against the bark of the tree as you finished, closed my eyes, and just sat there. I was exhausted, hopeless, and beaten.

When I opened my eyes, you were back at the Jeep, leaning an elbow on the open window against the driver's side door and whittling another piece of wood you picked up from the ground. You waited patiently, looking up at the fence one moment, the Hideaways the next, and then back to the wood you carved.

I considered staying up in that tree until I starved or froze to death. The nice weather the previous day was short lived and it was once again dreary and moist. Dark clouds filled the sky and the wind became strong, nearly blowing me out of my tree.

A storm was coming.

* * *

**Many apologies for the delay. It took me longer than usual to finish and then the betas were busy, so they had it for another 2 weeks. I finish up the semester in a month and after that I will have much more time loves. **

**Chapter 9 is already started**

**Give me some feedback. Did this live up to expectations? **

**What do_ you_ want to see happen in future chapters? I'm curious!**


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